#and my bunt cake :(

[mitchmrner]

as a leafs fan i feel as if i have suffered more than jesus

[caniethenondogsartblog]

Birthday was a little while ago but here’s some doodles :3

[theguardianace]

nothing like eating food to remind you you haven’t eaten food all day and it’s 3pm

[ardenti-corde]

🍋Lemon bunt cake with lemon icing🍋

[possum-down]

good borth

[daymarenightdream1]

𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙!𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 coming back after a long day of work to see you humming to yourself as you busy yourself in the kitchen, back turned to him. You’re mixing some ingredients in a bowl with your head in the clouds, totally lost to the world. He sneaks up on you, looping his arms around your torso and humming in content as he rests his cheek on your head. You lean back into him, a warm smile gracing your lips. “Long day?” you ask. “Yeah, was dying to get back to you all day,” he answers, squeezing you.

𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙!𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 is clingy, trying to pull you away from the kitchen to your bedroom, desperate for your soft touch and kind eyes. He’s really touchy, always needing some point of contact to feel like he can breathe again. Every second spent in your absence leaves an aching void within, and he actually feels a painful squeeze when he’s away.

𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙!𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 is vocal. “C’mon, sweetheaaart, let’s cuddle,” he begs as he kneads your waist, desperate to convince you. You huff and smile, shaking your head at how needy he is. “Satoru, let me finish making dinner, we can cuddle after.” He presses a hand to his brow and his voice warbles in faux-distress, “Woe is me, woe is me! My own wife refuses to love me! And on the day before my birthday!” This leads you to elbow him in the stomach and he splutters as he backs away. “Whyyyy…” he moans.

𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙!𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 being the little spoon once you finally come to bed, loving when you give him head scratches and peck sweet little kisses all over his face. He turns to snuggle into your arms, looking up at you with a ditzy lovestruck gaze. “How did I ever get so lucky…” He says sleepily, searching for your lips with his. You share kisses in the night, waking up every so often to a tangled mess of limbs and honey-sweet words from your husband who holds you like he never wants to let go. “I could kiss you all night…” He rasps, voice groggy from sleep but spilling over with love. “In fact, as an early birthday present, I think I will.” You chortle as he presses his lips to yours again.

𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙!𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 clasping his arm across the bed haphazardly in the morning to an empty bed as the sunlight filters through the blinds. He sits up suddenly, duvet falling to his hips, only to find your side of the bed painfully absent. His heart does that terrible squeezing motion, the thread connecting your souls stretching in your absence. It urges him to get up and find you. He feels empty without you. He stands, calling out your name, and only receives the echo of his own sad voice.

𝙃𝙪𝙨𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙!𝙎𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙪 𝙂𝙤𝙟𝙤 jolting in surprise as you blow a party horn directly into his face and strap a party hat onto his head. “Happy birthday!” you squeal as you bounce on your feet, presenting the cake on the kitchen counter that you’d spent the evening before baking and decorating. Satoru stills, tears gathering in his eyes as he sees the bunting you’d placed around the walls. “This is for me?” he whispers in disbelief. You chuckle happily as you brush his hair out of his eyes. “Who else would it be for? My second husband?” He grasps you all of a sudden, pulling you in for a roasting kiss, clinging to you like he wants eat you alive. You pull away, the two of you panting heavily. “My god,” you heave, “You know the cake is over there, right?”

“Don’t care,” He licks his lips, “Just want you.”

You blow the party horn half heartedly in his face. He jolts and snatches it from your lips, laughing. “Thank you for all this sweetheart. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You smile as he pulls you in for another kiss. What a wonderful way to celebrate your husband’s birthday.

[redheadspark]

heyyy i hope im not late for requesting for this month's prompt, time has been really tight recentlyyy!! i would like prompt #12 and #16 with benedict bridgerton (do wtv pleases you, however you'd like, whether u wanna combine them or do them separately each prompt has its own imagine)

and thank youu!!❤️

A/N - Sorry this was a bit late, I was with my parents and I never got around to writing this sooner! but I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting!

Taste

Summary - Benedict will forever be your taste tester

Warnings - Just fluff :)

“You ate the last one?”

“You don’t have the proof!”

“It’s clearly on your face!”

Benedict laughed as you scowled at him, though it was not a real scowl.  In a teasing manner, Benedict quickly went to wash his hands in the sink before you would take the hand towel in retaliation.  The sweet smell of the freshly made cookies was still lingering above both of your heads, as well as the tangy scent of the lemons still perched by the sink.  The rest of the kitchen must have looked a mess with flour everywhere and some of the other ingredients askew, but it was not a negative thing.

In fact, you loved it.  Sundays were meant for baking.

You loved to bake, it was something that brought you peace ever since you were a little girl and you baked cookies with your mother.  She had the magic touch in baking and would bake everything and anything.  Cupcakes, muffins, bunt cakes, all and more, she knew precisely how to make it memorable.  Thankfully, you had the same gift and made it your own as you got older and branched out on your own.  You were still working a 9 to 5 job, gathering every single cent you would earn, yet you would save baking for your own time.

Baking was also a good second job for you, almost like a side hustle.  You’ve baked for birthdays, gender reveals anniversary parties, retirement affairs, and even for one funeral.  It was decent money, and once word got out about your baking skills, people were reaching out for you to bake for them.  So money was no longer an issue.

Your main issue was your fiancé, Benedict Bridgerton.

He stumbled into your life by pure accident or fate.  His brother Anthony and sister-in-law Kate reached out to you after hearing about you from a mutual friend, they requested treats for their own gender reveal tea that Anthony’s mother was throwing for them.  They were a lovely couple, the Bridgerton family was well known for their kindness and charitable work, so you took the couple up on their offer. Arranging an assessment of treats, from small cupcakes to large donuts, your dessert table was an instant hit.  Especially with the Bridgerton siblings, all of whom praised you in your desserts and stirring up a conversation with you.

Benedict was instantly smitten with you when he asked about the blueberry lemon cupcakes, and you two have been inseparable ever since.

Being the man that he was, he made your life far more interesting and entertaining.  There was never a dull day with him, which rocked your world and life greatly.  After a few times of dating, you both moved in together and you got the whole scope of who he was.  Although he was an acclaimed artist, he was also a bit messy.  You oddly trip over his shoes every once in a while that was thrown on the floor, his paints and easel seemed to look out of place in your shared bedroom with a bit of mess growing by the minute. Even in the way that he would be so aloof in how he would walk in the apartment as if he was walking amongst the clouds.

You walked in on him stripped down to his boxers at one moment in your kitchen, standing in front of the freezer to get some relief since your AC was not working its best.  You huffed, tossing your work bag on the countertop, and glared at him with your hands on your hips.  It was even harder since you wanted to jump his bones then and there from how he was only in his boxer shorts and leaving nothing to the imagination.

“I know it’s hot but Jesus, put some clothes on!” You scolded him, yet it was short-lived when he slammed the freezer door shut and chased you into the bathroom, you laughed as he helped strip off your clothes and you both went under the cold water together. 

He became a massive supporter of your baking, as well as everything else in your life.  You found him to be kind, insightful in the most unique of times, and an amazing artist.  He made you laugh in both the good and not-too-good times, your voice and advocate when you would have some unruly customers that would try and rip you off, and beyond loving to you when you were hard on yourself. It had to be the Bridegrton touch, something that seemed both magical and rare.  You found yourself far deep with him, which was not scary.  But it was light, light, and seasoned with magic here and there.

He asked you to show him how to bake, which turned out to be more chaotic than you thought.  It wasn’t that he was clumsy or couldn’t work around the kitchen, he could to a point.  But Benedict was still aloof, like his personality, even with flour on his nose and some of the cookies burned from the bottom.  Yet it was still fun to bake with him, he knew how to make the evenings light or the early mornings genuine.  Baking alone was always fun, but now having another person to bake with was even better.

Even one evening in December, he made some freshly baked muffins on a plate to give you as you were curled up in your favorite chair with a book in hand.  But when he placed the plate in front of you, you saw a small velvet box in the middle of the muffins, making you cry as he knelt on one knee.  

Now, in the swelting heat of summer and your wedding coming around the corner in the late fall, you were experimenting with cookie and cupcake recipes that you would use in your reception at the dessert table.  You were a bit stressed about it, looking through plenty of baking books and recipes online to find the right dessert for your big day.  Your fiancé knew you were under a bit of pressure in that department, the rest of the tasks when it came to the wedding seemed not as stressful.  He hoped in plenty of the decisions and booking the vendors, the venue was his mother’s back garden.  

“It was delicious, my love,” he reasoned as he kissed your cheek and you moved a bit of the crumbs that were left on his chin off with a swish of your thumb, “New recipe?”

“I found it online, but I’m not sure if I like it or not,” He explained, dusting off your fingers on your baking apron, “I’m still on a hunt for a good lavender blackberry cake that I want to make for your mother as a Mother-In-Law gift!”

“I’m sure my mother would like anything you bake her, and she does,” Benedict explained as he wrapped you in his arms and tucked you in close, “Whatever you decide to make for our day, it’ll be amazing, just like you.”

He tucked his finger under your chin to lift your lips up to meet his.    Having this small moment, the kitchen semi-destroyed in baking tools and ingredients, in your cramped little kitchen of the apartment you both have been sharing together, it was perfect.  You both had plans for your future after the wedding, wanting to travel together as a newly married couple and see the world past the little town you grew up in.  You wished to take new culinary classes to sharpen your baking skills, and Benedict was going to look for a bigger apartment, even a townhouse, for you two to perhaps grow your family further down the road. 

But for now, for this small moment, you were happy.

Benedict pulled away and smiled widely at you, his bright blue eyes looking even brighter as he found your voice, “How about you and I have a movie night in, and I can order us an extra large, extras cheese pizza along with that bottle of wine Colin and Penelope gave you,”

“Oh, I’ve been. Looking forward to opening that for weeks!  Sounds lovely,” You replied in a hum pecking his lips one more time before he started helping you clean some of the pans and measuring cups.  You were looking forward to this kind of slow Sunday with him, every slow Sunday even, as long as Benedict was at your side. 

Your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, loved her Blackberry Lavender cake you made especially for you, along with the card you gave her with the news of your pregnancy.  

The End

[cursed-peanut]

A/N: HAPPY PRIDE MONTH EVERYONE!! Today I just wrote some silly little headcanons on how I think some JJK characters would react to you coming out to them as Non-Binary and asking them to use they/them pronouns for you (this is DEFINITELY not completely self indulgent. Definitely not, mhm.) Also, readers relationships with everyone is platonic as I picture them as a minor in this. It’s not clear that they’re a minor though so you don’t need to keep that in mind.

— Peanut <3

————————————

How JJK Characters Would React To You Coming Out To Them As Non-Binary And Asking Them To Use They/Them Pronouns For You || Part 1 [Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen]

Summary: you come out to JJK Characters as non-binary and ask them to use they/them pronouns.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Reader uses they/them pronouns, reader is AFAB in Toji’s, fluff, mentions of transphobia, mentions of death, not proofread, possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lmk if I missed anything.

————————————

Satoru Gojo

“Coolio.” He gives you a thumbs up and a bright smile.

He moves on pretty quickly, so you assume he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable by making a scene.

Or at least that’s what you thought until the next day when you came into the classroom, ready for another day at Jujutsu High.

It started like any normal day until you opened the classroom door and there’s party poppers exploding your way, drenching you in confetti.

“SURPRISEEEEE!!”

You are completely taken off guard, not expecting this at all.

There is rainbow bunting everywhere, rainbow napkins and rainbow plastic cups. There is a cake on one of the desks drowned in skittles.

Gojo forced everyone to wear party hats with the non-binary flag on them as well.

Megumi is wearing his usual deadpan face while Nobara is yelling at Yuji for screaming in her ear.

Gojo may seem like an idiot who can’t remember anything for the life of him, but that’s actually just a facade.

He does a great job at adjusting to your new pronouns and will 100% purple anyone if they’re being transphobic and/or purposely misgendering you.

“That should sort them out.”

Ultimately I think Gojo would be the sweetest and he might even throw an annual party to commemorate when you came out. If you don’t want that though, he’ll drop the idea. He just wants you to be happy and he’s glad you feel comfortable enough around him to come out and show your true self.

Toji Fushiguro

“What does that mean?”

You’re gonna have to explain to him what non-binary means.

But once you do, he replies with a simple “okay.” And moves on.

He doesn’t make a big deal out of it or throw a party because it’s not a big deal to him.

If you want to throw a little party, he doesn’t mind. But at the end of the day, you’re still you.

He tries his best to adjust to the new pronouns. Key word: tries.

“Her pronouns are they/them!”

“Their pronouns are they/them…” You sigh.

“Oh shit, my bad.”

If anyone is being transphobic towards you, you better believe he’s gonna be right there, giving them a stare that will probably make that person regret what they’ve said IMMEDIATELY.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

At the end of the day, he cares a lot for you, but you’re going to have to be patient with him because this old man can’t even remember his son’s name, let alone that he has a son.

Sukuna Ryomen

“What are you talking about, brat?”

Sukuna is ANCIENT, so you’re gonna have to break down what gender even means first 😭 (gender is a construct formed by humans, that’s why you’ll need to explain).

He’ll get it after a few times of explaining.

When he does get it though, he acts like he could honestly give less of a shit.

“Okay, I’m gonna go destroy the world now.” Kinda response.

Despite his aloof response, he makes an effort to change your pronouns and it may come as a surprise, but he does a good job at it.

He recognises that misgendering you wouldn’t keep you happy — and while he usually enjoys the suffering of others — when it comes to you, seeing you happy pleases him, and everything he does is to please himself, so seeing you upset would be unproductive for both of you.

People know not to mess with you for this reason. Because even others see the clear favouritism.

So if anyone is being transphobic towards you and/or purposefully misgendering you, they probably don’t know who Sukuna is or they’re asking for a death wish.

“Foolish vermin. Don’t listen to them, brat.”

Despite his harsh tone and names, Sukuna’s all bark and no bite to you and you only (for at least the time being). So despite the fact he’s a curse well over 1000 years old who wants nothing than the world to turn into pure carnage, he cares for you more than he would like to admit, so you don’t need to ever worry about him misgendering you.

————————————

Please don’t copy or take as your own. Likes and reposts are appreciated!

Like what you read? Here are all my other works and consider following me! If you would like to request something, please check my rules first before doing so.

[ovaruling]

no one asked, but here’s my detailed bird seed update since this blog has become not only a record keeper of my fitness but also my bird friends:

adjusting my budget severely for the elaborate bird feeding i’ve got going on. to recap, i feed about 200+ wild birds per day, mostly doves, grackles, blue jays, cardinals, catbirds, warblers, mockingbirds, and woodpeckers. sometimes i get a rare painted bunting! the number may possibly be more, my counting when they swarm is not reliable.

when i first started feeding, the birds were all terribly thin—the development in my neighborhood has been devastating to the general health of the bird population, as well as the sweltering heat of recent years. growing up, i remember it being a common sight to see birds milling about on the ground, scavenging for food. you almost never see it anymore, bc there IS no more ground. if its not paved, then it’s all tightly mowed grass with no chance for food to even have a chance to be there. based on the cityscape, my guess is that they have had to fly further and further distances in search of somewhere to forage. which, in this climate, must be utterly sapping them. they haven’t moved away, they still nest right here bc there are still thankfully lots of sheltering trees. but they are having to go further and further for food—not good.

the adjustment is worth it. i did find one store online that sells very cheap whole corn kernels by the pound, which the squirrels and jays love.

there is a female squirrel who is very obviously and very definitely nursing some babies. i am trying to keep supporting her bc she unfortunately picked a very bad place to give birth (landscapers and horses and vehicles nearby tear through almost daily on the other side of my hedge).

i don’t want her to have to go far, especially with the heat getting more intense, and so i’ve been making sure she has corn cobs every day at the base of her tree. but those get expensive, so i’m excited to have found whole corn kernels so cheap.

also found one decent price for halved peanuts which all the birds are absolutely obsessed with.

and the rest i’m still reliant on Tractor Supply for. i’d love to stop giving their murderous animal agriculture supporting asses money, but i’d need to find a better priced Fruit and Nut seed than they offer, and i haven’t yet.

as for seed cakes for the woodpeckers—which, the vegetable gelatin ones i buy are the most expensive per unit that i’m spending on rn, bc there is absolutely no way i’m going to conscience animal gelatin—my experiment in making them myself is ongoing. i used too little agar agar powder in my last batch (and also didn’t get it boiling enough) so it just ended up being a sticky crumbly treat that i put on the ground for the scavengers.

i’ll try again this week bc i’d really love to keep supporting my native red-bellies, especially as it gets hotter and hotter into the summer and the birds get more exhausted at a much faster rate.

[lilmonstahhhh]

it’s my birthday. That’s right I share the same birthday as Laura Bailey and Liam O’Brien 🙂‍↔️

Today I present one of the most chaotic tables and episodes. I love, love, love this episode. I literally watched this episode 3 times. There was just so much happening all at once. Matt’s face during this episode was priceless.

With team Wildemount trying to teleport to Jrusar and being teleported somewhere completely different was hilarious.

And Pris($)m completely thinking they were parting and ended up in the same place.

And when they were finally reunited. Even just them getting settled at the table was hilarious. Sam with the bunt cake. There was never a moment I wasn’t laughing a in game moments or out game moments. Matt had no control over anything that was happening.

Hands down one of my favorite episodes.

[defilerwyrm]

I love Jimmy. He's not a good boy, but he's a Good Boy, you know? Best monster.

Very late, but I'd like to share a story about him with you, about what just happened a little earlier tonight.

After work I was feeling droopy so I laid down for a nap, trusting that my alarms would get me up. Well. I almost instantly fell into an hour and a half of a half-lucid, semi-waking nightmare that was so intense, so extreme, that three times I thought I had woken up screaming, only to find myself still in the nightmare. It was...awful. The worst I've had in a very long time. I'm really fucking grateful that the memory of it is already fading, because otherwise it might be legitimately traumatic.

Jimmy has nightmares too. He started life with a big trauma, I reckon, as a feral orphan who came stumbling out of the woods screaming, sick, and starved before he was even weaned. I never found out what happened to his mother and siblings, but chances are it was violent.

When he has them and I'm nearby, I'll pet him and talk to him quietly to help it pass, and when it's a real bad one I'll wake him up and love on him, telling him he's safe.

Tonight, the whole hour and a half I was trapped in my own nightmare, Jimmy stayed on top of me laying on my belly. It was his warm weight that kept me tethered to the fact that what I was seeing, hearing, and feeling wasn't real. Here and there I'd surface to mostly-consciousness for just a moment and reach out blindly, and he'd immediately bunt my hand and rub his face on it.

After the fact I had the last piece of butterscotch caramel crunch cake for emergency serotonin. Jimmy got several tiny blobs of the frosting. He has a sweet tooth and he especially loves frosting, but I only have cake like 2-3 times a year, so suffice to say he was thrilled with this extra-special treat as a reward for exemplary service.

He is absolutely a Good Boy.

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: how about kostas thinking his girlfriend forgot his birthday, literally everyone wished him a happy birthday but she didn't, and after training he comes back a little moody but finds a sweet cake baked with his girlfriend apologizing cause she wanted it to be surprise!! (@findingnemosworld)

Word Count: 1085 words

(author's note: thank you for the request my love !! i've been waiting desperately for a kostas request, so this one really inspired me 🫶)

Kostas woke up with a smile on his face. The sun shone through the curtains, illuminating the bedroom he shared with his girlfriend. However, today was extra special. It was his birthday. Kostas loved his birthday. He enjoyed nothing more than spending time with his family and the celebrations that came with the occasion. 

He picked up his phone from his bedside table and began to reply to the mass of birthday wishes. His instagram inbox was the most full. Fans from all over the world took time out of their day to wish him happy birthday. It warmed his heart to know that he was appreciated and supported by so many people.

Kostas turned on his side and gently pulled his girlfriend closer to him. He decided to wake her up by pressing soft kisses onto the skin of her neck. Eventually, Y/N woke up and laid her head on Kostas’ chest.

“Good morning, baby,” she whispered tiredly, “Did you sleep well?”

Kostas was confused. He had expected her to say happy birthday and press a kiss to his lips. He decided not to dwell on it and chalked it down to her early morning tiredness.

“Yes, I slept fine.” He replied, trying not to let his annoyance show.

“Are you sure, you seem irritated?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I need to get ready for training now.”

“Okay my love,” she replied, smiling up at him as he got out of bed.

Kostas just looked away, knowing the hurt would be written across his face. He moved over to the wardrobe to busy himself with getting dressed. Y/N watched him intently. She always said he looked his best in the morning.

Once he was ready to go, he said a brief goodbye to Y/N and left. As he drove to the training ground he mulled over the events of the morning. Surely she hadn’t forgotten his birthday? Y/N was never the type of person to forget important dates. She always remembered every detail about the people she held dear to her.

The drive was over before he knew it. Kostas pulled into a parking space, grabbed his training bag off of the backseat of his car and headed inside the building. 

The AXA training ground was one of Kostas’ favourite places to be. Football had been his passion since he was a small boy playing on the streets of Greece. He never in a million years thought he would be where he was now. The peaceful feeling overtook him as he made his way to the changing rooms.

Pushing open the door, Kostas walked in. “Hello birthday boy!” he heard Andrew cheer.

"Come on everyone, let's sing him a song!"

As his teammates began to sing happy birthday, he felt instantaneously better. At least they had remembered his birthday.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt awful. She knew it was Kostas’ birthday, but in order to surprise him she had to pretend she’d forgotten. She also had to pretend she didn’t see the wounded look on her boyfriend’s face as he came to the conclusion that she really hadn’t remembered his special day.

As soon as Kostas had left the house, Y/N jumped into action. She blew up balloons and littered them down the hallway. She stuck up banners in every room and hung up bunting on the doorways. Once she was satisfied with the decorations, she checked her phone.

Y/N had ordered a custom cake for Kostas from his favourite bakery. She meticulously planned the design before sending her ideas to the bakers. She had finally received the text that told her it was ready for collection.

Pulling on one of Kostas’ hoodies, she set off to the bakery. Once she had arrived, the workers brought the cake out for her to look at. It had a white icing base with blue detailing to reflect the flag of the country he had grown up in. Written on top of the cake was ‘Happy Birthday Kostas!’. Y/N paid for the cake and they packaged it up for her. After thanking them for their help, she began her walk home.

Kostas had just finished training. Luckily for him, the training session hadn’t been too gruelling and he wasn’t too sweaty. He changed out of his athletic gear and into the tracksuit he had arrived in. He then began his journey home.

Pulling into the driveway of his house, he exited the car, locked it and pulled out his house keys. He was still feeling sour from his morning, although the team had done a good job at cheering him up. Unlocking the door, his eyes widened when he saw the decorations. Y/N was sitting at the bottom of the staircase and upon seeing her boyfriend enter the house, jumped up and ran into his arms.

Kostas dropped his bags and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend’s middle. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and smiled down at her.

“Happy birthday handsome,” she said, looking up at him, reciprocating the smile he was directing at her.

"I knew you wouldn't forget."

“How could I forget one of the most special days of the year?”

This elicited a laugh from Kostas as he leant down to give his girlfriend a proper kiss. She smiled into the kiss and when they broke apart, grabbed his hand and began to lead him to the kitchen.

“I have another surprise for you.”

Once she had pulled Kostas into the kitchen, she motioned for him to stand in front of the box on their kitchen counter. Kostas looked up at her, giving her a look that read; should I open it? She nodded at him, urging him to continue.

Unwrapping the ribbon, Kostas pulled the lid of the box open and raked his eyes over the cake that lay inside. Looking up at his girlfriend and back down at the cake again, a warm feeling spread through his body. Kostas had never been so in love with anyone in his life.

He moved over and pulled Y/N into another hug. Once they pulled away, Kostas took a deep breath, “Thank you so much γλυκό κορίτσι. I love you.”

“I love you too, Kostas Tsimkas. I’d never forget your birthday.”

The pair then grabbed forks and sat at their dining table to eat the cake. The cake was not only a symbol of Kostas’ birthday, but a symbol of the love the couple shared.

[nedeljkovicsaysno]

DO NOT TOUCH MY GOALIE, DO NOT TOUCH MY BUNT CAKE

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Little bit of language.

Word Count: 1.8K

Note: This is really just to introduce the characters and the tone of the piece. I hope you like this little group as much as I do!

May, 1939

“Will you three get out of the way?” Cora Vaughn nudged her youngest sister, Dot, with her shoe as the cake in her hands slid on its plate. Dot was the first to jump up from the doorstep. Giggling, she grabbed the hands of Lois Bennett and hauled her to her feet. She, in turn, took the cake from Cora’s hands and went to place it on the table assembled in the street. Bunting was strung from a few of the lampposts, and newly laundered white tablecloths fluttered a little in the spring breeze. A few of the neighbours’ children ran by, chasing a leather football down the cobbles. The last to move was the middle of the Vaughn girls. Cigarette between her lips, she leant against the door frame, staring steely eyed across the street. Suddenly, she ran forward.

“Careful!”

The old piano her father and Douglas Bennet were wheeling through the front door teetered. Just as her hands found the piano, another pair did the same. She looked up to see grey eyes twinkling back at her.

“Alright, Bess?”

Tom Bennett braced the piano against his shoulder.

“Alright, Tom.”

“You finished the dress then,” he nodded to her.

“Yeah, though I’m not sure on the red. Think it clashes with my hair.”

“I like it, nice to see you wearing dresses outside the dance hall,” he teased.

“Can you two stop your whispering and help?” Fergal Vaughn was going red in the face. Douglas Bennett looked ready to faint. Together the four of them manoeuvred the old upright through the door, and no sooner had it come to rest was Tom jogging to play football with the little ones. After inspecting the strings, Bess joined Cora and Lois once more on the doorstep of the Bennett’s home. Dot was bouncing around in front of them, her freshly curled hair shining in the sun.

“Yes, Dot, we know you’ve got tongs.” Cora said, clicking her teeth.

“Well it’s better than sleeping in rollers every night.” Dot retorted.

“I’d rather sleep in rollers than get up at the crack of dawn to curl my hair.”

“What time is Albie gonna be here?” Lois asked Bess, keen to stop the burgeoning argument.

“In a few minutes, I should say. Queenie Warren’s taken him for a walk around the houses.” Bess replied, watching Tom pick up one of the little boys to stop him reaching the ball. She smiled.

“Not the first time Queenie Warren’s been round the houses!” Dot laughed. Cora smacked her arm with a shush.

“Shit.” Bess threw her cigarette to the curb and ran to the piano. She played the first few chords of Happy Birthday, and the street stilled their activities to join in the song. Albie Vaughn rounded the corner, an overdressed young woman hanging off his arm. He beamed at the sight of them; his family and neighbours assembled around the table as they sang to him, and laughed brightly when Bess began a chorus of For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow. Dot swung her arm around her brother’s neck, causing Queenie Warren to stumble out of the way. Cora placed a hand on her back apologetically before kissing her brother’s cheek. Fergal hugged his son, while Douglas shook his hand and Tom clapped him on the back. Bess was the last to greet her younger brother, kissing his hand and smiling.

“My boy is twenty-one!” Fergal shouted proudly to the street. A cheer rang through the afternoon air and people settled at the table, tucking into the sandwiches and cakes that the Vaughn girls had prepared with Lois’ help. Bess lit another cigarette and resumed her place at the piano. Occasionally, while her fingers worked through ragtime and foxtrot, she glanced over the party.

Cora and Lois were laughing together about something, and it joyed Bess to see them leave their worries behind for a few hours. They had both given so much to look after their families. Fergal and Douglas, too, were laughing. A bottle of beer in each hand, their eyes crinkled in the corners as Fergal gesticulated wildly while telling some story about his life back in Cork. Albie and Dot were walking around, chatting to party guests. At the table, Queenie Warren was applying more lipstick. She leaned towards Tom and looked up at him through her lashes. To Bess’ great delight he ignored her, and instead stood to fill a plate with more food. Bess snorted. Greedy guts. She focussed her attention back on the piano, before something was placed atop it. She looked up.

Tom was leaning on the upright, eyes towards the party. When Bess didn’t speak, he looked round.

“I think we can manage without a few songs while you eat your lunch.” The plate he had placed on the piano was piled with sandwiches and a slice of Albie’s birthday cake. Bess reached for out for a sandwich and popped it in her mouth.

“Thanks,” she said through her mouthful. Tom simply smirked and sauntered back to his seat.

The afternoon carried on with much merriment. One of the old Irish dears from down the road brought out a wireless and a bottle of sherry to share with the Vaughn girls. Despite the warmth of the day, and the sherry, a chill descended with the start of the evening. Albie and Tom were sent to the pub while the girls packed away the party. They sniggered as Queenie Warren struggled to keep up with them in her heels.

*

By nine o’clock that evening, the Vaughns and the Bennetts were sat around the fire in the former’s kitchen. Albie had stumbled home not half an hour before and was currently asleep in the rocking chair by the hearth. Cora, Bess and Lois were washing up, while Dot looked through one of Bess’ fashion magazines. Tom was still at the pub. From the kitchen table, Fergal and Douglas watched their daughters.

Fergal was so reminded of his late wife each time he looked at his girls. Their dark, copper hair looked aflame in the firelight, and with each glimmer of their eye and hush of their voice he felt as though she were back there with them. Cora and her gentleness, Bess’ steely confidence, Dot with her joy. Thank God for his girls. He turned to Albie and pride swelled in his chest. With his dark curls and eyes, he was the image of his father. But just like his daughters, he too took after their mother.

“Twenty-one,” he said softly, causing Douglas to look up. “And Dot not long off eighteen.”

“Never thought I’d have a family after the war, let alone see them grown,” Douglas said.

“We were the lucky ones.” Fergal said sadly. They both drank to that and fell silent. After a moment, Fergal spoke again. “It does worry me, him being twenty-one.” He gestured to Albie, now snoring gently. “You know, with all this stuff going on in Poland. Sounds just like it was before.”

Douglas merely hummed. Fergal knew he was thinking of Tom.

“You want me to help you get him to bed?” Douglas asked.  

“No, me and the girls will manage.” Bess turned and rolled her eyes good naturedly.

By the time the Bennetts had said their goodbyes, and the Vaughns had collectively hauled Albie to bed, it was half past ten. Bess always liked this time of day. She loved her family, adored them, but living in a tiny house with five people left her craving solitude. She was just settling in the rocking chair with a small glass of whiskey when the door to the yard clicked open. Hair ruffled, hands in his pockets, gentle smile directed at Bess was Tom Bennett.

“Wrong house.”

He tutted. “I know,” he drew out the last word teasingly. Bess looked him over.

“Where’s Queenie?”

“How should I know?”

Bess shrugged. “She seemed pretty keen on you,”

“She’s keen on anything with a pulse,”

“You’re well suited then.” Bess slouched in the rocking chair and rested her head against its back. She heard Tom sit at the piano stool and pick a few notes at random to play. “Well, where were you?”

“Who put the pennies in you?” Tom laughed. Bess raised her eyebrows at him in question and he sighed. “Met a man down the pub who said he could get me some car parts.” Tom was used to her silence and accustomed to reading her mind. “For me to flog.”

Bess’ eyes never left his as she took a sip of her whiskey. Tom huffed. He knew she didn’t approve, but sometimes he wished she’d tell him this. Just behave like a normal girl and speak, rather than communicate with him telepathically. He didn’t realise how long their silence had lasted until Bess spoke again.

“Are you ok?”

He considered her before speaking. Tom often found himself at the Vaughn’s late in the evening with just Bess for company while the others slept. He found her quiet confidence calming. Tom imagined Lois and Cora knew that he snuck out to talk to her, but they never said anything. Tonight, though, he wasn’t sure why he was here and so simply nodded.

Bess stood and made her way to the piano and lightly played a melody. Tom copied. She did another four bars, and once again Tom followed. When she nudged his shoulder he looked up to find her warm smile.

“I think you’re the only person who understands me sometimes Bess,”

“Get yourself off to bed. Night Tom,” she rubbed his shoulder and made her way up the stairs. He watched her go, grabbed his jacket from the table and left through the front door, tucking his spare key into his trousers. Just as he went to open the door to his own home across the street, he heard the clicking of shoes on the cobbles.

“Here,” Bess thrust something into his hands as he turned around. “We’ve got plenty. Too much. Goodnight.”

Tom opened the tissue paper and found a few slices of Albie’s birthday cake. He watched Bess disappear back into their house. She didn’t look back.

Note: Things will start to pick up in the next few chapters, I promise! Expect unlikely friendships, angst, gossip, letters, maybe a little sauciness…

The Vaughn girls ages are 24 (Cora), 22 (Bess) and 17 (Dot). I’ve put Lois at the same age as Cora, and Tom at the same age as Bess.

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @i-killed-ramsey @anditsmywholeheart @allthefandomtherapy @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternett @chainsawsangel

[enam3l]

love, lola chapter 10 preview

hi guys lol i am alive and i am trying to write again so as an apology here's a preview from the next chapter where the cat is finally out the bag!

September 25th 1986, Hawkins 

Much like it had been almost a month ago for Eddie’s leaving party, your house is decorated in streamers and bunting. The dining room filled with the people you love except one in particular. Your name and the number ‘21’ swirl in lilac frosting on an overly ambitious cake Grams and Joyce made. Ten years ago, it would’ve been an activity she would’ve done with Eddie’s mom. The pair of them conjuring bizarre baked concoctions for yours and his conceding birthdays.

Your stomach growls looking at the frosted mountain, desperate for everyone to leave so you can subdue the ravenous little alien growing inside you and stuff your face with it. But that can’t happen yet, because all those people you love are gazing at you with hopeful eyes waiting for you to cut the cake. Steve and Gram’s had presented it to you seconds before, her smile glowing with candlelight whilst he looked at you with a knowing look of just do it already.

The knife passes from one hand to the other awkwardly as you decide what to do. You pass it back to your dominant hand, giving in to the watching smiling mob and begin to cut. Only half an inch in and you retract the knife and look up and stutter. Everyone���s faces twitch with confusion. 

‘Urm, before I, y’know, cut the cake and stuff,’ you fumble gracelessly over your words, ‘there’s something I guess, I’d like to say to you all.’

Breathe in, breathe out. These people love you, they’re family. 

‘It’s urm, well…’

From your peripheral you see Steve nodding slowly in encouragement.

‘I, umm… oh god, look I’m pregnant, okay?!’

You pull taught your dress to reveal the bump it had artfully hidden. Gram’s palm slaps her face at your rashness. Hopper chokes on his swig of beer whilst Joyce turns to him with wide eyes. Wayne stumbles back into his chair, instinctively clutching the front pocket where his cigarettes lie. Both Mike and Dustin stop mid-mouthful of food. Max and Lucas whip their heads round from their current bickering. Nancy pushes Jonathan’s poised camera down slowly, knowing this is not a moment anyone wants on record. Steve, ever your rock these days, comes straight to your side and places a soothing hand on your elbow. 

Naturally, the only loud response screeches from Robin. 

‘EW! WITH STEVE?!’

‘Oh excuse me, it's not EW!’ Steve begins to retaliate, already sick of this being the go to response. All eyes now shift to Steve who you elbow in the rib. 

‘No, don’t be silly,’ a small soft voice interrupts, ‘it’ll be Eddie’s.’

All eyes, including your own, wide and with matching dropped jaws land on Eleven who sits with a content smile on her face. The assumption has sweating beading at your forehead. A wheeze comes from the corner of the room, you know who that is instantly. 

‘It’s not!’ You plea, hands up to calm a very pale Wayne Munson, ‘it’s not Eddie’s, Wayne!’

You don’t notice the look of disappointment that flickers across several faces in the room. 

‘Oh my god,’ Nancy gasps, ‘so is it Steve’s?’ 

Another ‘ew!’ wails from Robin, earning her a scolding look from her best friend. 

‘Oh can we stop saying ew!’ Steve pleas with the room, ‘it is not my baby but you know what, she’d be lucky if it was, alright!’

‘Steve?!’ 

‘Steven!’

You, Joyce and Gram chastise causing him to raise his palms in surrender. 

[the-lesbian-orpheus]

I was slightly delayed due to several hours of homework

But I made a bunt cake from a fantasy cookbook with my mom, I dressed in my hobbit-y colthes, put together a charcuterie board and am now watching unexpected journey

(We’re 40 minutes into the movie it’s like 8:30 pm)

All this to say happy birthday Bilbo and Frodo to all who celebrate